Broken
by HogwartsStudent13
Summary: He looked in the mirror and groaned, he used to love his reflection; most people did in fact but now when he looked in the mirror he felt broken. George/OC
1. Chapter 1

He looked in the mirror and groaned, he used to love his reflection; most people did in fact but now when he looked in the mirror he felt broken. He thought he looked a shaggy mess when Fred died; he got himself together after that thought. He was George Weasley after all and he had a reputation not to mention his family to think off but Ginny was now living with Harry, Ron with Hermione and his mother and father enjoying time for themselves for the first time in forever. He wasn't needed; sure they kept an eye on him after the funeral, making sure he got himself back on his feet. He had done what most people would do, he got through it with a smile and making sure everyone knew he was grateful. The reality was he would have been happier if he had died from his injuries, to be with Fred; here he felt alone.

George's reflection was of course a handsome one but he had lost his sparkle behind his eyes. He could not seem ungrateful though, Molly and Arthur had both seemed so happy to see his smile return; they were grateful just to have him in their lives especially when they had lost so many people in the war.

He was George Weasley; so he did what any normal person would do. He put a smile on his face, straightened his shoulders and went downstairs to enjoy breakfast with his mother and father. It was, after all, just another day.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to **Agus Laufeyson** and **Agent Potter** for their review! Make sure you check out their latest stories too!

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It had been two years, and his mother and father thought it would be best to reopen the shop. He had to agree, he had spent too long walling in their old room at their parents' house and it was time to reopen what they had created and move back into the flat above the shop. It would give him space to wallow when he needed to, be creative when he wanted and most of all let him keep the one thing he had left of Fred.

He took his bag and put it over his shoulder, stepped into the fireplace and then appeared in the flat. He stepped out, dusting himself off on the rug. The flat was covered in dust; it would take more than spells to clear it all away. He would have to organise Fred's things, his room was unchanged but for now he would leave that; he was sure when he could face it, if ever.

He walked past the rooms and down the staircase to their development room; the smell of sulphur laid in the air and burn marks adjoined the room. He pushed on through and into the shop front; it was in one piece even after all this time and with the exception of dust and a few expired potions it was as they had never left; as if the war had never happened, as if Fred hadn't died.

He took a deep breath and retreated back upstairs; he crawled into Fred's bed and inhaled. It was just another day, alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Two more days had past and all George had managed was to clear the dust from his own room. He had spent only one of the evenings in his own room; he went back to The Burrow for dinner and returned back home after.

He decided that to be able to reopen the show he would require some staff; at least one additional member to help get the place ready for reopening. He grab a piece of cardboard from a shelf one evening and wrote 'Help Wanted' on it and left it in the window before crawling into the development room, sitting on the floor and went to sleep dreaming of happier times. It was just another evening without his missing half.

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Sorry it is so short but i will be posting again soon! Please review xx


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for your reviews and reads! A special shout out to Agent Potter for the advice. After an amazing holiday in Orlando and with the amazing harry potter experience under my belt i feel more inspired than ever! I hope this has more emotion in it than my last chapters._

_Please review! I do want to hear what you think and what can be improved...maybe you have an idea where you would like this to go!_

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He had been exhausted and awoke two days later; he stretched his legs and stood up. He came face to face with a wall cover in purple stains and photographs they had put in the room to remind them of the outside world while inventing. He smiled at the ones of Fred waving at him; some with him, some with the family and some with their friends and the Order. George felt lighter seeing Fred's face; it reminding him that even though he had gone they had had a wonderful life with amazing memories. He went upstairs to their bathroom and got himself ready for the day; as he looked in the mirror he found it wasn't as hard to pull off a smile – something about seeing Fred's smiling face in the photographs made him feel slightly happier. He felt he needed a walk, maybe getting out into Diagon Alley would continue to brighten his mood slightly and get him through the day.

He put on a pale blue jumper and jeans and went out to stretch his legs. He walked to the top of the Alley, grabbed a coffee and picked up the days copy of the Daily Prophet. He tucked it under his arm and headed back to the shop.

He heard a blood curdling scream from Knockturn Alley; he turned around to see a girl coming out of the alley. She had tears running down her face, a black robe billowing around her in the wind as she rushed over the uneven cobbles in bare feet. George could only see black robes firing spells at the girl. He dropped his coffee and paper and seized his wand from his pocket. He sprinted to her side and helped her to her feet, dodging spells from the depths of the alley. He screamed "Stupify!" into the alley and prayed it hit a target, but there must have been more than one person as the spells kept coming. They had both fallen to the ground, he got himself back to his feet; his heart pounding. He scooped her into his arms and ran to the shop. He slammed the door behind him and took her up the stairs to the flat, she sobbed into his jumper, clutching him until he laid her down on the sofa.

He brushed back her long dark hair, to reveal deep brown eyes crowded with tears. Her plump lips trembling as she looked up to meet his eyes. He saw she had a large wound below her eye. He pulled back her robes to see if she had any further injury; her dress was torn and her legs were scratched, knees scuffed. Her wrists were red raw and hands covered in scratches. She continued to sob, curling herself almost into a ball. George didn't know what to do, he couldn't take her to the hospital; her attackers may expect it but he knew someone who could help.

George picked up the young girl and stepped into his fireplace. "The Burrow."


	5. Chapter 5

Just a quick shout out to orlisgirl04 for the follow and much love to you guys who have stuck with me! I really love the advice you guys are giving! You are awesome

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He fell out of the fireplace, tripping on the rug and leaving both of them a heap on the floor. He tried to recover quickly, getting to his feet without stumbling once more; picking up the stranger and placing her on the couch, he checked her over while brushing some of the soot away from her clothing and being wary of the wounds. She whimpered as he pulled away to yell for his mother from the living room door. "Mum!" His voice sounded broken, he ran back to the couch. The young girl was weak, her wound by her eye bleeding still; George took his sleeve and with a feather light touch he wiped some of it away. Her brown eyes still filled with tears, a weak smile on her lips before her eyes closed and she passed out; her grip loosening from her jumper. He felt weak once again, not physically but mentally; the thought of losing this girl felt all too real. "Mum help!" He could hear the back door slam against the wall and footsteps.

Mrs Weasley ran to her boy, checking him over quickly before looking at the girl gripping his jumper. "Oh you poor thing, George fetch a towel and some water and quickly!" He squeezed her hand as he removed her vice grip from his jumper.

George returned looking flush; Mrs Weasley was stroking the young girl's hair; her wand waving over her body healing her cuts and wounds. "George, pass me the towel...let's clear her pretty face of all this blood." Before she took the rag, she waved her wand and her Patronus left to send a message to Mr. Weasley. Mrs Weasley took the blanket from the arm of a plush armchair and placed it over the young girl.

He sat on the floor next to the couch, his legs pulled into his chest as he looked upon her. He had this horrible twist in his stomach that made him think this wasn't over – someone wanted this girl, not just anyone but deatheaters. He should tell Ron, he would know about any deatheaters looming around from the auror office, but he didn't want to leave her side either. He didn't want to lose her like he lost Fred; he found this thought strange though, he didn't know this girl but there was something about her which made him want to stay. Fred would tell him to listen to his gut so that is what he would do.

Molly placed a cup of tea, a slice of homemade chocolate cake and a fresh t-shirt next to him as she fluttered around their new guest. "I've let Ron and your father know we have a mystery visitor," Her calm tones soothed him, she kissed his head, "They will be home soon and hopefully once her fever has calmed down she will wake up." He just nodded and sipped his tea. "Thanks mum..." He took his jumper off and changed into a orange t-shirt which he recognised as Bill's old Chudley Cannons t-shirt. It smelled of home and hope to him.


End file.
